A Very Harry Summer
by Genkai Shihan
Summary: Harry is payed an unexpected visit by a member of the Order, and has been offered to stay at the second Order House. And who shall this mysterious member be? Read and Review please! Chapter 8 is finally up!
1. Stubborn

**A Very Harry Summer**

A/N: This is my first try at a HP fic, so be nice. Plus I think it'll be cute. There's mild Albus/Minerva fluff ahead, so be ready.

**Ch. 1**

Minerva McGonagall strode through the hallway, with a stern look on her face that meant business. She walked briskly up to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's Office. "Acid Pop," she said impatiently, tapping her foot. When after seemingly forever, the gargoyles had moved completely out of the way, and Minerva had not wasted a second, as she hurried up into the office. She paused, for a mere second, catching her breath. It was just yesterday when she cast away the use of that dratted cane, after all.

"Albus, we need to talk!"

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his desk, setting a magnifying glass down. It looked like he was trying to repair one of the silver instruments Harry had literally destroyed. Ever since that night, Albus had lost that familiar twinkle in his eye, and Minerva had wanted to know what happened in the office to make Harry so angry. The thing that bothered her the most was that Albus had told her simply that he got what he deserved from Harry, and had closed the topic for discussion.

"Hello Minerva, what seems to be troubling you?" He motioned to a chintz chair by his desk. "I'm sure you'd like to sit down," he smiled. He knew her all too well for her own liking.

"You know why I'm here, Albus, I want to take Harry for the summer." The words came out more rapidly than she would have liked, but she couldn't hold it back any longer. She had to say it.

"You know he has to stay at his Aunt and Uncle's house for the protective spells I put on his relative's house to be renewed each year. He must stay there for a while every year for it to be renewed," Albus said, sighing heavily. "I knew you'd come and ask to take him, but the only question was when."

"I've wanted to take him since he first came, and you knew that, but this year's occurrences made up my mind," Minerva said, pushing her glasses up her nose with one finger. She fidgeted in her seat, anxious to hear what Albus had to say.

"Well Minerva, you know I can't stop you from taking him..."

Minerva fidgeted some more.

"...but I'd rather you wait three weeks before picking him up."

"Absolutely not," Minerva raged. "I won't have him stay there in that abominable house any longer!"

Albus raised a hand for silence, and when she settled down to catch her breath, he continued. "I know your feelings about this, but it doesn't change the fact that he must stay there every summer. You should wait at least two weeks before picking him up. Three weeks would be safer, but I know how you are about these things, and when you set your mind to something, you are by far the most stubborn person I've ever had the privilege to meet."

Minerva blushed crimson, and hid her extremely small smile behind her hand. Albus knew her better than anyone, and sometimes she hated how he used that to his advantage to successfully woo her.

"Thank you, Albus," she croaked. Her voice had gone hoarse. Albus smiled, and he leaned closer to her.

"Minerva, I know you want to take him right now more than anything, but please, wait at least two weeks." He leaned back from her and calmly waited for the tantrum. She was easy to predict once you got to know her, and she could throw a fit that would rattle the furniture.

What she did next, however, surprised him utterly beyond belief.

She smiled at him, and spoke calmly. "I understand, Albus, and I know how right you always are." She got up slowly, and with the gait of a woman still recovering yet stubborn, she walked out of his office and closed the door behind her without a word. Albus sat there for a few moments, wondering why she acted so differently, then got back to his work.

Down the stairs, through the silent, empty, and student-free halls, and up to her bedroom during the year, she walked, not noticing a single thing, just walking and thinking deeply at the same time. When she went into her room, she sat down on her creaky little bed and tried to devise a plan. She couldn't defy Albus, so she would have to wait those dratted two weeks. After a few minutes of careful thinking, she had it all planned out. On the morning of the beginning of the third week, she would show up at the door, and demand for those filthy muggles to release Harry. She could just scare them if they resisted with an impressive transformation, but then, she might just be able to take him without using any force.

Lying down, she thought about how great it would be to have him at last, and promptly fell asleep, still smiling to herself.

The next morning, she got up, and did her normal routine. Grading exams. Oh, how she hated to grade exams. If she was lucky, she could get a whole year done today. She then eagerly got to work at that thought.

At lunchtime, she went down to the table with the other teachers that were left. Professor Sprout, Flitwick, Snape, and Hagrid of course were the only ones still here, along with Albus. Obviously Sibyl would stay all year, due to the fact that she had nowhere else to go, and Firenze, because he was no longer welcome in the forest, but they chose not to dine with the rest of them. They all waited politely for Albus to come down, and only when he took his seat did they begin eating. Only when all the students were gone did Albus sit in a normal chair instead of the large headmaster's chair he usually did. He had said once that he didn't like sitting up so high from his plate, and that it hurt too much to sit in.

She knew he was lying about that, because she had once sat in it for a minute when no one was around. It felt like a cloud, because it was stuffed with only the most delicate of feathers. Still, it was nice that they had a headmaster who didn't consider himself better than everyone else.

She looked at the table and realized how hungry she was. Obeying her stomach, she shoveled the corn, mashed potatoes, and chicken onto her plate. In roughly one minute, it was all gone. Her colleagues looked at her curiously.

"Er… are you alright Minerva?" Professor Sprout looked over at her inquiringly.

"Yes, I'm quite alright, just anxious to get some of these exams graded." She replied, scooping second helpings onto her plate. In an even shorter space of time, she had everything but licked her plate clean.

"Minerva, you seem a little preoccupied today, is there something wrong?" Albus asked, his eyes showing that knowing look. He knew she was thinking about Harry, and he was playing with her. Did he want everyone else to find out what she was up to? Or was he just teasing her?

"No, Albus, I'm perfectly fine," she said, raising her eyebrows at him.

Hagrid leaned over and looked at her closely. "Yeah, Professor, ya look kinda…. pale, if yeh know wha' I mean." Albus nodded in agreement. Then the rest of the staff turned back around to look at her and peered at her face.

"I dun think yeh'd say no ter a glass of firewhiskey, now would yeh?" Hagrid chortled.

Blushing crimson, she shook her head politely, and got up, pushing in her chair. Everyone was still looking at her. "I'm perfectly fine, all of you," she snapped, getting up from the table. She held her head high, and walked quickly out of the hall.

She wasn't acting weird, was she? Feeling her forehead, she felt a little warm, so she went upstairs to lie down for a while.

As it turned out, she did have a rather bad cold, and was in bed for a few days, not even being able to grade papers. Though when finally prompted by Albus, she took some of that foul tasting Pepperup Potion that was left behind in Poppy's office, and felt better almost immediately.

It took over a week to finish up all the papers, and when she finally did, it was the last night on the second week. 'So I wouldn't even have been able to take Harry if I tried, because I couldn't leave all this work.' She thought miserably.

Putting all the papers in one stack the next day, she began to pack her things. Albus insisted on walking with her out of the grounds, as though she were to be jumped the moment she left the castle.

"I'm perfectly all right Albus," she snapped, for about the hundredth time.

"Of course you are Minerva," he sighed, looking at her with rather hurt eyes. "You are so stubborn that you heal all too quickly, and are more determined than ever to have your way." At this, he looked down at one of the few scars left from the unfortunate stunning incident, and traced it lightly with his finger. She shivered slightly, and looked up at him in mock anger. His finger traced the scar from just above her bosom and trailed it until it stopped slightly above her collarbone.

"I'll be fine, Albus." She said softly. They had been friends for many years, and their friendship, possibly even love, grew into an unbreakable bond. She knew it could never be broken, as it had been put to the test by countless arguments.

He pulled her into a tight embrace that lasted only a few moments. "Do be careful Minerva," he whispered softly. They broke apart, and she gave him a soft look.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, before moving down the path a little ways, before grabbing her trunk and apparating with a small crack to her manor.

A/N: Done! Took me a few days to do (limited computer access) but I feel good about this. Muahaha. That means it's good for me and bad for you, because it involves cliffies along the way!


	2. Eavesdroppers

**Ch. 2 - Eavesdroppers**

She walked briskly up the path, and was rather winded by the time she reached the large wooden doors, so she paused to catch her breath. When she went inside, she called her house-elf to her, and asked for her trunk and cloak to be taken up to her room, and that the bedroom down the hall be dusted for a guest. She then asked that lunch be prepared for two, seeing as she would arrive with Harry around lunchtime.

She smiled at Rougey, who positively wriggled with glee to have her master and a guest staying in the house over the holidays.

Walking over to a portrait of her family, she smiled and waved at them before wrenching it open (to their protests) and opened the small safe. She kept small bags of the gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts just in case she needed anything. As an added security bonus, the Portrait wouldn't open to anyone except her. Even though it wasn't the safest place to keep the gold, she wasn't about to apparate to Diagon Alley every time she needed a few galleons.

She grabbed a small bag of sickles and shut the safe, which caused the portrait to swing back into place. Once again she apparated with a small whip like crack, only to appear again on Privet Drive. Looking around, there were no muggles to be seen from her spot behind a small tree at Number Two, so she quickly transformed to her animagus form, that of a small tabby cat with unusual markings around her eyes. She stretched, not having used her animagus form in awhile.

She heard a loud bang, and looked next door in alarm. A very agitated Harry had slammed the door, and ducked down into a particularly large hydrangea bush underneath a windowsill. Running over into their driveway, she thought she'd have a look at Harry and wait until he calmed down to announce her presence. A very loud and gruff voice changed that.

"Hey you, shoo!" It was Vernon Dursley. Minerva turned to look at him in what she hoped was a reproving manner. She did not like being "shooed" by the likes of him. Harry had stood up, and what he saw instantly put a wide grin on his face.

"Hi, Professor," he said. Mr. Dursley looked appalled at first, then angry, as if it was some April fool's Day joke.

"How can a cat be your professor?" He hissed, keeping his voice down in case any neighbors would overhear.

Minerva bounded over to the glass door and pawed it, waiting for Harry to open it. When he did, she ran inside, followed by a red faced Mr. Dursley. When Harry entered, he saw that she had changed back, and heard Aunt Petunia shriek and drop whatever teacup she was holding.

It was as if someone dropped a bomb. Petunia was still screaming, while a now puce colored Vernon Dursley picked up a broom, as if he was going to "shoo" her out the door, even though she was back to her normal self. A boy whimpered in the corner, his eyes almost popping out of his head. Dudley Dursley, she guessed.

"Now see here!" Vernon Dursley yelled, waving the broom around. He was paid no mind.

"Mr. Potter, may I speak to you in private?" She inquired, voice as calm as ever.

"Would my room do, Professor?"

"Of course, lead the way please," she said, indicating for him to show her where he slept.

When they reached his bedroom, she frowned for a moment. "It seems extremely small to me," she said.

"Well, it's better than where I used to sleep," he muttered as he sat on the bed. He looked angry with himself for a moment, as if he said something he shouldn't.

"Where did you sleep before?" She had to ask.

"Never mind, Professor, it's nothing." He mumbled, flushing with embarrassment.

"Tell me," she said sternly, moving so he had to look at her.

"I used to sleep in that cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter," he said sheepishly. He seemed to be really interested in his sneakers. Minerva, however, was almost livid. So they had mistreated him as a child! She tried to calm herself, and counted to ten before she spoke. Now was not the time to be angry with the muggles. She had to wait until she got downstairs to do that.

Then she remembered her original purpose for being in this small muggle house. Now wasn't the time to inspect Harry's cleanliness or even to yell at those horrid people. It was the time to ask Harry a question she'd been holding back since he first came to Hogwarts.

Harry seemed to sense how nervous she was. "Is everything alright Professor?" She then noticed she was shaking slightly.

"I'm fine, but I wanted to ask you a question." He seemed to hang on her every word, as if he was expecting something much more important than what she was about to ask. She cleared her throat. "Would you like to go live at the second safe house for the Order?"

He looked like Christmas was cancelled. Not exactly the question he was hoping to hear.

"What about the Burrow?" He asked. She cringed at this question. This was something she did not want to answer. He seemed to notice her reaction, and looked at her, almost pleadingly for her to answer.

"Well, as you probably were aware, The Weasley's home was common knowledge at the Ministry, especially since Arthur faced an inquiry after you and Mr. Weasley drove that car to school almost four years ago." She saw, to her satisfaction, that he shivered at the thought of it. The two had nearly cost Arthur his job, after all.

"I didn't think about that Professor," he said, clearly crestfallen.

"Of course you didn't," she said. "Since anyone could have found out about The Burrow's whereabouts, it is unwise to go there after…" She couldn't finish. Albus would say his name, surely, but she just couldn't.

"You mean after Voldemort was forced out in the open?" Harry asked softly.

She cringed slightly at the name. "Yes, Harry," she said quietly. He seemed shocked that she used his first name. She had never used his first name, at least, not when she was speaking with him. "We also thought that Grimmauld Place would be an unwise place-

"We?" Harry cut in. Minerva sighed. She almost expected this to happen, and cursed herself for not being more careful.

"A-Professor Dumbledore and I agreed Grimmauld Place wouldn't be the best place for you," she said. "He also felt that you would be safer here for a little while longer, but I saw to that." She nearly kicked herself.

"Oh, so Dumbledore wanted me to sit here and rot?" He caught his breath. "He wants me to sit here like a good little boy without any freedom at all because it would mean going to Sirius's, Sirius's…" He couldn't finish, because unwilling tears had sprung into his eyes, and his voice had cracked. As if he could pretend it would all go away after a few moments, or maybe not wanting to show such emotion in front of his stern head of house, he turned away from her, putting his head in his hands.

Minerva didn't deter so easily. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You didn't ask where the second safe house was."

He shifted, as though uncomfortable that her hand was on his shoulder. "Oh yeah?" a hoarse voice asked behind his hands. "Where is it?"

"My Manor," she said simply. She realized she was holding her breath, and exhaled, just as Harry voiced his reply.

"WHAT!"

She was about to reply, when she heard it again. There was a barely audible creak of floorboards, just outside Harry's bedroom. Could someone have snuck in past the muggles? Could He have found out where Harry resided and forced muggles nearby to spy? The possibilities were endless. She didn't know the extensions on Albus's spells, either. She then noticed Harry was looking at her curiously. Putting a finger to her mouth to keep Harry silent, she crept over to the door quietly. With her wand at the ready, she pulled the door open in one brisk movement, surprising the eavesdropper.

It was Dudley Dursley. The great lump fell backward with a loud thump, and whimpered, apparently frightened out of his wits because of her wand. "Explain yourself this instant!" She demanded, wand still pointed at him. It was clear her wand frightened him, so maybe he had come in contact with other wizards. She decided to use that to her advantage. No harm in a little threat.

She waved her wand over him, muttering a few nonsense words. He looked like he was about to wet himself. "If you mention this to anyone, ever again, that spell will let me know, and I won't be very merciful about it," she said. "I will come here myself and turn you into a fruit bat if you mention the slightest bit of conversation you heard ever again." She could have sworn his eyes were about to pop out of his head. "Now go," she said, shaking her finger at him.

He scrambled down the stairs as fast as his chubby legs would carry him. She turned back to Harry, trying very hard not to laugh. Harry looked as though he was going to die smothering a snigger. He stood up, and very straight-faced, asked, "A fruit bat, Professor?"

"Never you mind that," she said. "Now, are you going to start packing, or what?"

**A/N:** Minerva's house elf, Rougey, I made up that name because of the French word "Rouge," which means Red. I was going to have her have red eyes, but I decided against it at the last minute. But it's better than having a house elf named Smeagle. .

Thanks for all of those great reviews! I didn't expect to get so many… I'll try to hurry it up with the next few chapters so no one will be reduced to blackmailing me... O.O


	3. Leaving at last

**Leaving At Last**

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize, I don't own. Otherwise I'd be filthy rich, and sitting on my butt somewhere on the beach drinking slushies

Hope you enjoy!

As Harry hurriedly folded his socks and drawers into his large trunk, Minerva was studying him. She had taken care of his shirts and trousers, which were folding themselves and floating into a separate part of the trunk. He looks like he was crying recently, she decided in the end, after carefully trying to understand his expression. His eyes were still a little red around the edges. About Sirius, no doubt. The pity she felt for him overcame her, and she wanted to do everything in her power to make his summer safe and, hopefully, happy.

"Professor," he asked suddenly, looking up from packing his cauldron and other school supplies. "I wanted to know, when will I get my O.W.L. results?" She sighed inwardly in relief. At least this question was easy to answer.

"You will get your O.W.L. results in the beginning of August."

"Well that's good then," he said, looking a little bit crestfallen. She had the perfect way to cheer him up for a little while, though.

"Mr. Potter, I suppose I forgot to mention that Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will also be joining you the day after tomorrow?"

His eyes bulged with excitement. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, quite serious, I'm afraid," she smiled. She noticed something was wrong right away, because he was staring at her very peculiarly. "Is something wrong, Potter?"

"I've never seen you smile before, Professor."

She nearly blushed at that, but recovered quickly, and with a wave of her wand, forced the trunks to snap shut. "Well, are we ready then?" She asked. He nodded and motioned for her to go first, as he had to bring the trunks, while she had picked up his beautiful snowy owl.

When she stepped downstairs, there was a loud whimper. She saw Dudley grab his bottom and run into the parlor as fast as he could.

"What did you do to my son?" A purpling Vernon Dursley growled. "He hasn't said a word all this time!" A very white Petunia nodded, shaking so much that whatever liquid in the new cup she held spilled sloppily out.

"I caught your _son_ eavesdrop on our private conversation," she said coldly, putting emphasis on the word son. "All I did was make sure he wouldn't tell a living soul about it."

Vernon Dursley's face got a shade darker with every word she said. "How did you do this then?"

"That is none of your concern Mr. Dursley." She gave him a stern glare, just for extra measure.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?" He screamed. In his anger, his large fist broke off the end of the broom he was still holding.

Minerva had had enough of this nonsense, and wanted to finish it now. She pulled out her wand, and pointed it at him. It took everything she had not to smile at his reaction, which had caused him to go very pale and fall over a chair.

"Now, see here," she said sternly. "I've heard of the way you treated Harry all these years, and it sickens me. I am very close to turning you and the rest of your family into a herd of sheep, because all you do is bleat when something doesn't go your way, and I will no longer have it. If I hear more stories about Harry's horrible childhood, it will not be a pleasant outcome for you, and I suggest you work on your begging." She gave a rather frosty glance at Petunia, for extra measure. She dropped the new cup she had been holding, and it smashed on the tile into many pieces.

Harry, however, looked positively thrilled at her little speech. She motioned for him to go outside ahead of her, because she would only take one more second. After he had shut the glass door behind him, Minerva had taken a letter out of her pocket, and handed it to Petunia, who looked like she'd been handed a bag that contained horse droppings.

"What on earth is this?"

"That is a letter from Albus Dumbledore, who wanted me to give that to you," she said.

"Tell him I don't want to hear from him anymore!"

"I'm afraid that is not possible, because if he wants to speak with you, he will. Now, I'd like to say something to you I've been holding back for quite a long time," she said, taking a deep breath. What she was going to say would mean releasing long held feelings. As if Petunia knew this, she stayed quiet.

" I knew your sister very well, she was more like family to me than you will ever know, and I treated her as such, which was better than the way her own sister treated her. To think that you didn't even let her know that her parents had died! She was only fifteen at the time! The sad part was, she still loved you, even though it was never returned. I thought I ought to mention it to you."

She turned away from a dumbstruck Petunia, only to see that Harry had heard every single word. He was looking at her in a way that she had never seen before, and frankly, it was rather creepy. She began to walk out the door, until a soft voice made her halt.

"It was you then, you were that cat on the wall…" whispered a rather dazed looking Vernon Dursley. He was staring at her with a somewhat glazed look in his eyes.

"Yes, I watched you the entire day before Harry arrived here, and I stand by my thoughts back then at how horrible you were for raising him." She stormed off, and a rather abashed Harry held the door open for her, and followed her without a word.

She looked up at the sky with a groan. It seemed they had spent quite a while in there, for the sun was just starting its journey to sink below the horizon. She would have to hurry then. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice so soft it was a whisper. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Professor, is what you said all true?" She looked at him particularly embarrassed. It was not something she'd wanted him to hear.

"Exactly what is it that I said are you referring to?"

"That part about watching the Dursley house the day my parents were murdered."

She winced, preferring the other topic about her being close to his mother. "I will talk to you about everything, but first we should get home, er- I mean once we get to my manor," she said hastily. Home was a very delicate word for him, and he probably knew it too, which was why he fell unusually silent. "Now," she said, trying to change the subject. "We should be heading out."

She once more grabbed her wand, and holding it out, whispered "Lumos." Within seconds the large purple Knight Bus had come to the street in front of them. Stan Shunpike, who she had the obligation of teaching some years ago, stepped out and began to recite his welcome.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, I am Stan Shunpike, and I'll be-"

"Yes, Yes, we know who you are already," she hissed, and dropped the bag of sickles into his hand. "That should be enough for two passengers, and we'd like to go to Wrea Green, please."

He took the money, and when he turned to get the bags and saw who the second passenger was, his jaw dropped.

"Is tha' you, Neville?"

Minerva stared at him. Why on earth would he call Harry 'Neville'? She was about to ask when Harry gave Stan his trunks and set Hedwig next to them.

"Professor, should I go and find a seat?" This snapped her back into reality.

"Yes, go on ahead, I would like to speak to Mr. Shunpike." To her pleasure, he cringed at her old habit of calling him by his surname.

When she climbed up to the second floor, she saw Harry sitting on what looked like a large park bench, which thankfully, was nailed to the floor. At least until it changed into a bed, which she hoped was quite awhile from now.

"Professor, what did you say to Stan?" Harry asked, suddenly paling and gripping the arm of the bench tightly as the Knight Bus moved out.

"I convinced him to move us up the line since you're being searched for as we speak," she said through clenched teeth. "We should be there in a moment, thank God." He looked like he was about to laugh, but caught himself before he threw up.

A voice rang through the bus. "Wrea Green!" Minerva lurched to her feet.

"Here we go now, this is our stop." They went down the stairs to see Stan walking off the bus with their trunks and the birdcage, and followed him out. Once he had set down the trunks, Minerva gave him a curt nod, and motioned for Harry to follow. He hastily picked up the trunks, while she had taken the birdcage with the slightly ruffled owl in it, and followed after her.

"Bye Neville!" Stan called after them. He never really was a bright one, she thought.

"So, why does he call you Neville?" She asked, trying to start a conversation. Since neither of them were in danger of throwing up anymore, she decided conversation was good.

"In the summer before my third year I ran away from home and accidentally flagged the bus down," Harry explained. "I didn't really want him to know my name so I told him I was Neville Longbottom."

She didn't blame him for what he did. Gossips like Stan would spread ridiculous rumors about, and she'd have done the same thing were she in his place. They walked along in silence for a while, before he spoke again.

"Professor, how long of a walk is it to your manor?"

"Just another quarter of a mile up that hill, and we'll be there." Well, it was almost true. They walked up the hill and back down until they saw the small road that led to her front gates. Of course she could see them, but she imagined he looked rather confused at why they'd stopped in a big field.

She reached in her pocket, and held out a note for him to see. "Memorize this quickly," she said. The note read:

_The second safe house for the Order of the Phoenix will be held at M. McGonagall's manor in Wrea Green._

When she saw him look in awe upon the mansion, she assumed he saw it. Ushering him inside the gates, they walked briskly up the path with renewed vigor at seeing the humongous place. Home sweet home, she thought wearily. She hadn't walked this much since her stunner incident, and she was slightly dizzy, and more than a little tired.

When they reached the door, she flicked her wand, which opened it immediately, and strode inside, a slightly panting Harry following. She noticed Rougey had lit a fire, and motioned for Harry to sit down in a chair. She locked the door and redid the sensory charms on it.

Going into the kitchen, she saw Rougey had already noticed their return, and was hurrying to reheat some food. "You are truly amazing, Rougey," she said, smiling. The house-elf turned around and almost dropped the pan she was holding as she curtsied.

"Mistress is much too kind," she mumbled.

"Nonsense, you are worth ten normal cooks." With that, she decided to leave so she didn't make her nervous. The elf tended to tremble a little when she was watching her cook.

When she walked in the sitting room, she noticed Harry was almost dozing off by the fire. She was rather glad he was so comfortable in her home, but it also made her feel twice as tired by looking at him.

"Wake up you, the food will be ready in a few moments." She didn't want to sound too harsh, but there was a limit to what she could do.

"Wh-what?" He blinked sleepily.

"Dinner will be ready in a short while," she said. "I assume you're hungry, that is." She knew she was, but she kept that part quiet.

"Yeah, I'm starving!" He said, looking completely awake at the mention of food. He's still growing, and who knows how little they feed him at that muggle house. A corner of her mouth twitched at this thought.

"Now, while we're waiting, I know you probably have many questions, about the Order, about why you're here, and such," she said. "Now is the time to ask."

He paused, probably thinking up a really hard one to answer.

"I want to know why you came for me all of a sudden to take me here." He looked eagerly into her eyes, waiting for a response. This one, however, was not going to be easy to answer.

**To Be Continued….**

**A/N:** Haha! I made a cliffy, I made a cliffy! Now you're all going to have to wait until the next chapter comes out, Muahaha! This one was a little bit longer than the other chapters, but I'm sure none of you have any problems with this. Also, I itched to make Vernon connect the cat he saw on the wall with Minerva. Ooh, I had to do it!

Wrea Green: It's an actual British village, in case you don't know, and thanks to my friend Augustwolf for his info on that, since I couldn't make up a name for myself ...


	4. The Manor

**Ch. 4**

Disclaimer: Do I really need to be putting these up? If I seriously owned any of this, I would probably be somewhere warm tanning. And I'm not.

She was about to open her mouth, when she heard Rougey speak behind her.

"Mistress, the food is ready now." With that, she curtsied and left. As they both walked into the large dining room, Minerva motioned for him to take a seat, and sat down on another plush beige chair. She didn't care much for the extremely high back of the chair that was at the head of the table, so she just sat opposite from Harry, even though tradition rules stated she should sit at the head.

Looking at the plates set out, she nearly drooled. Rougey had cooked up all her favorites; the plates before them held roast beef, potatoes, tons of vegetables, and even a pudding for desert. She could hear her stomach sighing with pleasure at the first bite. The food was magnificent, as usual. When she looked at Harry, she could see he was feeling the exact same; happy to have food. He, however, was shoveling in as much as he could. She probably would have done the same, if she was eating alone.

"So pwoffeshor," He paused, swallowing a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes. "I asked you when we left the Dursley's about where you were the day my parents were murdered." He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Well, I had heard rumors that your parents were killed, and that you would be sent to live with Lily's sister, so I went to watch them." I wanted to see how you might be treated if you were to grow up in that house.

I was sadly disappointed, however. That cousin of yours, the entire day I was watching that house, he had tantrums that shook the dust from the walls, and screamed for sweets the entire day."

"Yeah, that'd be Dudley all right." He looked like nothing had changed, either.

"I visited you for the next few weeks, and what I saw was horrible; you were being pinched and poked and hit by that thing you call a cousin, and you never once cried."

"Why didn't you stop it then?"

"I was forbidden to make any contact with them by Dumbledore," she explained. She felt the emotion rising in her throat, which meant that it was time to change the subject. Unfortunately, he came up with another question before she could open her mouth. He was so good at asking questions.

"Can you tell me about my mother?" he asked. And the emotion rose again. Where to start? She took a deep breath, and began, willing tears not to come. They always came when she talked about Lily.

"Your mother was one of the smartest witches in her year, almost rival to Ms. Granger." She was exceptionally good at transfiguration, and I was hoping she'd one day become an animagus. As I said before, her parents died in her fifth year, right about when she was leaving for the summer. Now, she had started writing me in the summer of her third year, so I wasn't surprised to get mail from her the first week of vacation, but I was dismayed at the letters contents, due to the fact that they contained news of your grandparent's deaths."

He interrupted her. "How did they die?"

"She told me they were killed in a car crash." His mouth opened and shut like a goldfish gasping for air.

"Until I got my Hogwarts letter, Aunt Petunia told me my parents died in a car crash."

This made her mad. How dare the woman do such a thing! First of which denying him knowledge of the wizarding world, and then playing out her parent's way of death as his own. She must have hated Lily very deeply, but that didn't make it right to take it out on her only nephew.

"Are you alright?"

This snapped her out of it. She was obligated to finish her story now.

"Well, as I said before, I was dismayed to hear her parents had died, and I came looking for her, which was when I met your disgraceful aunt."

"What did she say to you?"

"Oh, the usual nastiness when she found out I was a witch." I assume she was grieving in her own way, but she was forcing her sister out of the house, as it had been left to her and your great aunt, who I assume was equally horrible. Almost at once I invited her to live at my manor during the summer, and she accepted."

"And she stayed here until she married my dad?"

"Yes, she stayed until she was engaged to marry your father, and they'd purchased that small house in godric's hollow."

There was a long pause, until Harry swallowed a last mouthful of food, and set down his fork. "Can you show me where I'll be sleeping?" He yawned. "I'm exhausted, and all the food made me want to go to sleep even more."

Of course! Why hadn't she seen him so tired? Maybe he wanted to dwell on the little bit of information she had given him. Standing up, she turned to him. "This way, Rougey's made you a bed in the room at the top of the stairs." She led him up the first set of stairs and opened the first door on the left. It used to be her younger brother's room, but he was killed in an experiment gone wrong after he had left Hogwarts. Her parents had never gotten over losing their only son. Some of his school robes still hung in the closet, next to all of his school things, packed up to be forgotten.

"This is where you'll stay for the remainder of the summer," she said. She indicated to the trunk and his owl, which were put at the end of his large bed.

The first thing he did was to open the window on the opposite wall and let his owl out. She flew to the windowsill before turning back to look at him. She hooted in pleasure and spread her snowy wings to fly out into the night sky. Minerva couldn't help but sigh. She always thought owls were very regal creatures.

"Good night professor." Harry said. He sat down on his bed in exhaustion.

"Good night Harry," she said.

She knew he was surprised at the use of his first name, but he looked too tired to care right now. Quickly, she walked out and shut the door so he could change and sink into much needed sleep. Walking into her own room, she quickly changed into a nightgown and washed her face in the adjoining bathroom. Coming back into the room, she noticed Rougey politely waiting for her.

"What is it Rougey?" she asked.

"Rougey just wanted to express her joy at the mistress' return!" She said. Rougey then burst into a big smile. Minerva went over to her and gave her a little hug. She was very fond of the little house elf, partially because she helped raise her when she was a tiny elf child.

When she was employed at Hogwarts a year after she left, she did not return home for very long in the summers. She only returned for about a week at most every year, because she loved the school so much. After teaching for almost five years, she received a letter that her mother had passed away of a sudden illness. Albus had given her permission to go home for awhile. It was around that time that Rougey was born to their previous house elf, Tilda.

While house elves usually strap their children to their back while working, Minerva would not hear of it. She took care of the elf child during the day, and it helped her cope with the passing of her mother if she pretended for awhile she was a mother herself with a child to worry about. It was foolish to play pretend to deal with with loss, but she didn't care.

After about a month, she had to leave her father and go back to school. She knew he was heartbroken, but he told her she had to go make her own way in the world. Every year after that until her father passed away she stayed almost the entire summer. When he died, he left the house to her and her older sister, but Armelle died when a rogue dragon went on a rampage in Scandinavia. She was always into magical creatures, and had had a job with the Scandinavian Dragon Preservation Society.

The house was all but abandoned when she went to school, with only Tilda and small Rougey left. After Tilda herself died, Minerva offered for Rougey to come with her to work at Hogwarts, but she refused, saying she needed to keep up the house in case Minerva came home during the holidays. She never did though, but she understood. Rougey didn't want to leave the house she grew up to serve, even if it's only resident didn't live there most of the time.

"I'm glad to be back for a little break myself," she said, sitting on the bed. Rougey bade her good night and disappeared with a crackle to go to her own room in the attic.

After she lay down on the bed, she extinguished the bedside lamp and thought for awhile. She thought about Harry. She only thought for a small while, for she sunk into slumber fairly quickly.

**To Be Continued.**

**A/N:** I am SOOO sorry for not updating for a looong time! Bows I took many hard classes this year, including a few college level courses, and they are just killing me. And when the take a break from killing me, they give me more homework. It's nuts. But now that I got done with a major research paper, I have some time on my hands. All of that will be spent towards writing this/thinking about writing this. I promise. To all of the readers here who have been waiting and threatening me all this while, THANK YOU! I can't apologize enough for this extended delay. Gomenasai! I will update soon!


	5. A Surprise Visitor

Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all for waiting such a long time! I've had problems with internet connections and such, along with a heavy workload at school. Enough of my excuses, though. Read and enjoy! Boost my ego a bit with some praise! Please?

SherbetKitty: Yes, the house elf Tilda was after Tilda Swinton. She is currently one of my favorite actresses after the Narnia movie, hehe.

When he opened his eyes, he was in an unfamiliar place. He reached for his glasses on his bedside table, but it wasn't there. It was on the other side of the bed. Weird. Putting his glasses on, he looked around him. In the middle of wondering why he was in such a nice room, it all came rushing back to him. He was in McGonagall's house. It still felt like a dream, the way she picked him up and told him everything he wanted to know. In years no adult has ever given him all the answers he asked. There were always secrets to be kept.

Not now, though. A feeling of warmth enveloped him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. It was almost like he was loved.

Nah. He wouldn't go as far as to say that. He got a feeling that she did care about his safety and wellbeing, but saying that she loved him was almost farfetched.

Getting up, he noticed Hedwig perched on the end of the enormous bed, a piece of parchment in her beak. Curious, he grabbed it. On it was simply: "Harry, whenever you're ready, there's a large breakfast waiting downstairs for you." His stomach chose that time to voice its complaint with a loud rumble. Obeying, Harry got up and got dressed in record time. Not forgetting Hedwig, he gave her a large owl treat and voiced his thanks. She hooted and gave him a playful nibble on the finger.

Walking down the stairs in daylight, he noticed the pictures hanging along the wall for the first time. Some looked really old, or at least, contained people who looked like they lived long ago. Some of them were waving at him, looking very friendly, but a few were looking at him with disdain. Maybe they'd just never seen a boy with such untidy hair, or maybe they were just that condescending when they were alive. The most recent portraits were towards the bottom. The women had their hair up in buns less in these. He saw a woman that looked almost exactly like Professor McGonagall, except she had bright blue eyes and a mole on one cheek. She smiled and waved, and he returned the suit.

In the last one, which was at the bottom of the stairs, he saw three children. The oldest looked about fifteen or sixteen, and had her black hair braided down her back, with a lock of silver hair hanging in her face. A boy of about eight or nine with the same dark hair kept pushing the oldest so that he could wave at him. The girl in the middle looked to be about twelve. She kept getting pushed around by both of them, but didn't do much pushing in return. She just waved, her eyes sparkling through her square glasses. This girl had to be Professor McGonagall. She had the same eyes and nose, not to mention the glasses she was wearing.

"Like that portrait Harry?"

He spun around, facing the present day Professor McGonagall. She had a mildly amused look on her face. Harry flushed with embarrassment.

"I was just wondering why I never knew you had a brother and sister," he said.

Her face became blank for a moment. "You wouldn't know about them, they died a long time ago."

"Oh."

He mentally kicked himself. 'Oh' was all he could say? What was he, an idiot? "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"It's alright, they died a long time ago," she said. Walking over next to him, she pointed to the girl. "That's Armelle, she was 4 years older than me and had a fascination for magical creatures. She was killed in a dragon rampage in Scandinavia. Oh it's alright," she said, noting the concerned look on his face. "I don't mind talking about them, it would be worse to lie and say they're on vacation in Majorca or something."

He pointed to her face where the long lock of silver hair shone brightly. "Why is that part of her hair so light?"

"She was experimenting with a charm to turn her hair blond, and that was the result." She smiled, remembering all the grief Armelle had caused their mother about that. "We were never able to fix it, but she thought she looked 'distinguished' with it."

"What was your brother's name?" He asked, pointing to the boy. The girls in the portrait were looking at them with wide eyes, as if they were eager to know the fate of the boy whose imprint was sitting inside the portrait with them. The boy had a sad smile on his face. It almost made Harry ashamed of asking, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"His name was Conner, and he was 3 years younger than me," she said. He died a few years after Hogwarts, while he was apprenticing to become an Unspeakable."

"Like the ones that work in the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes, the one and the same, and they wouldn't even tell us how he died," she said.

That was true, they spent weeks trying to learn how Conner died, but even his Master, a man by the name of Geryon Branstone refused to say anything about it. How like them. It infuriated her father, and from then on he wanted nothing to do with the Ministry itself. Her mother was a different story. She didn't speak a word for weeks. When she finally started talking and eating regularly, it was like she was a shell of a person. She seemed so fragile after that, and Minerva always thought that Conner's death was the reason she had caught sick and wilted away so quickly.

Snapping out of her trance, she asked "Are you hungry?" His face brightened.

"Starving!" She led him to the dining room, where Rougey had laid out a magnificent breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, oatmeal and more lay on dishes before them. Minerva sat back down in front of her own plate, which was only half finished, and waited until Harry had started to shovel food in before she began to eat again.

"Professor, why am I here?" He asked, swallowing a mouthful of potatoes.

Oh great. _That_ question again.

She took a breath and started to say the little tidbit she planned on feeding him earlier. "You're here because obviously it's cruel to let you stay in that house all summer, and since your safety has come into question at the Weasley home, it was determined that you should come here."

"Yes, but why did you want me here?" He asked, that pleading look in his eyes. You said that Dumbledore didn't want me to come for another week, so why did you come get me now?"

She mentally kicked herself. He was like a sponge, absorbing every word she said and clung to it, as if he would fall and break if he didn't. 'I bet he just might break, too,' she thought to herself. She might as well go ahead and tell him, he could probably smell lies, for all the ones he was told his entire life.

"I wanted you to be here, Harry, because I felt that you would be safe here, and get to be with your friends without risking said safety." She exhaled, then continued. I also wanted to be able to provide you with a safe and happier place to stay, for as long as you like." Now, for the reaction.

It took a moment, but his eyes widened. "Do you mean that?" he asked softly.

"Of course I do," she said, placing an arm on his shoulder. "I want you to stay here Harry." His eyes looked rather watery, and she was close to becoming very emotional herself. Harry seemed shocked that anyone would go out of their way to do something for him, and was so happy. His eyes began to overflow, and before she could say anything, he was furiously wiping away the glistening joy that trickled down his face.

"Am I interrupting anything important?" A cold voice asked behind them.

She whirled around, hand moving towards her wand that lay next to her fork.

"Ah, it's just you, Severus," she breathed, quite relieved that it was a fellow teacher come to visit, and not someone come to harm Harry. The tall man walked in, and, seeing the situation, with her right arm still on Harry's shoulder, and him still bleary eyed, smirked.

"Should I come back later after Potter's crying session?" He asked, eyes twinkling cruelly.

"Severus!" This was beyond rude! She knew he disliked the boy after what his father had done to him when they were children, but she never anticipated so much malice directed towards him. Looking at Harry, she saw he was wiping away the last reminders of a moment's joy, and was directing the most evil glare possible towards Severus. Not surprising there.

"I'm sorry, Minerva, I was just expecting Potter to be over with the moping about Sirius, and instead I'm proven wrong."

Harry stood up abruptly and excused himself, tearing out the side door that lead to the garden and yard beyond. She had warned him when they got there not to go too far, and she hoped he remembered to heed her warning.

He tore down the garden path, making towards the woods in the distance. How dare he! Just when he felt the happiest he's been in ages, with a place to go to! He comes and insults him, practically calling him a crybaby and a little pansy. One punch could wipe the ugly smirk from his face, but he didn't think it would be worth it in front of Professor McGonagall. She might not want him to come back if he did that.

He wanted to come back, though. It was the first time someone offered him a place to stay since Sirius offered it to him over two years ago, when they all thought he'd be freed. Sirius. Just the thought of him made the tears well up again. Furiously, he wiped them away. He didn't want to be a child by crying all the time, even if it did still hurt. He was needed as an adult, not a child. Even though he knew that, he couldn't help the tears. They came unwillingly, and flowed down his face as if they were a river broken free of the temporary dam.

What he didn't realize was that he had already passed the entrance to the woods. Suddenly, without warning, a force struck him head on, flinging him backwards. His only thoughts as he fell were that he didn't bring his wand.

As soon as Severus left from reporting recent news, Rougey appeared in the room with a crack.

"Mistress, I felt a surge out back by the garden!"

Oh no. _Harry_.

She grabbed her wand and apparrated to the garden, rushing to see what had happened, and hoping she wasn't too late.

A/N: I took the name Geryon from Greek mythology, as dear JKR often does. Geryon is the name of the giant Heracles defeats to obtain sacral cows. I don't know much more about it than that. Branstone is the last name of one of the Hufflepuffs called in Chapter 12 of the Goblet of Fire, her name's Eleanor Branstone. Who knows, relative maybe? We might find out, we might not, muahaha… Also, I'm sooo sorry for taking so long on this one! But it was so hard to write! I had to struggle with the urge to go completely OOC, but thankfully, I think I suppressed it very well. And yes, another cliffhanger! OMG I'm so evil!


	6. Old Faces

Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the wait everyone, I'm trying to go as fast as I can! I now have two jobs! Not one, but two! I need to earn all the money I can before that place called college, and hopefully a trip to Paris in there somewhere. But seriously, thank you all so much for the reviews! Within a few hours of updating, I received so many reviews! It really made me feel special, and I thank you.

Okay, enough rambling, on with the story!

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She raced down the garden path with Rougey two steps ahead of her, ears flapping wildly as she ran. They reached the edge of the garden and kept going. In the distance, by the trees, she could make out a form on the ground. Harry. She prayed to god nothing had happened, and pushed herself to go faster, ignoring the burning protest of her lungs.

"Harry!" She saw him stand up, dazed. Rougey had gone past him, and was looking for any signs of intruders.

"Mistress, it's okay, he's just run into the barrier." She pointed to a spot in front of her, where the air was a light pink, meaning he had indeed run into the barrier surrounding the property.

"What on earth were you thinking!" She cried, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and shaking him. "I thought you'd died! Did you forget everything I told you about the barrier yesterday? How it surrounds the grounds as added protection? I thought that something horrible had happened! Don't you ever scare me like that again!" She could feel the tears leaking past her usually firm mask.

When he looked into her eyes he saw worry and fear, and realized he had caused those emotions. He felt a lump at the back of his throat, and a weird feeling in his chest. Then she started to cry. This shocked him out of his numb state, seeing the always calm and reserved professor, crying because of something he had done.

"I'm sorry." He knew those words weren't enough, and still, they were all he could say after what he'd foolishly done.

Her hands fell from his shoulders, to be limp at her side. "Please, don't ever do that again," she whispered to him. In one moment, he felt the numbness slide away, and felt tears on his part begin to well up. On impulse, he reached for her. She didn't push him away, like Aunt Petunia had done when he was little, she just accepted him. As he hugged her tightly, she felt her own arms responding a little. She raised her arms to put around him, but only really grasped his middle lightly. This action was something new for her, and frankly, she wasn't sure she liked it. Looking at him, she knew he wasn't a baby anymore, but he was not an adult yet either.

Now over her momentary scare, she let go of him and grasped his shoulder. "I think we should go back inside, you have a lot of homework to do I believe," she said, hoping the tremble in her voice wasn't noticed. "Including an essay that I didn't get to collect at the end of the year due to certain...circumstances." He groaned, having clearly forgotten about her theory of human transfiguration essay. "I daresay you won't get nearly as much work done with Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger here tomorrow."

With that, they headed back to the manor, thankfully going at a slow pace, because her legs hurt. She would definitely feel this tomorrow, she thought wearily.

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Harry awoke the next morning to screams, and felt himself tackled.

"Harry, we're so glad to see you!" Hermione cried, hugging him around the shoulders.

"Thought we'd never see you again, mate." His red-haired friend punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"How did you guys get here?" He asked, finally free of his overly hyper year mates and best friends.

"Dumbledore brought us," Hermione said. "He's still here, he said he wanted to talk to you." Her face grew from happy to concerned as she saw Harry's face darken.

"He's here, huh?"

"Yeah, he said he wanted to talk to you with us, so we'll be downstairs while you get dressed," Ron said, not noticing anything. After the door closed behind them, he thought he heard a muffled 'Ouch!' from Ron, as Hermione probably cuffed him. He sighed, and began to get dressed.

Coming downstairs, he saw that Professor Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall all waited in the dining room for him.

"What was it you wanted, Professor?" His words dripped from his tongue like acid, making his two friends' mouths open.

"Harry!" Professor McGonagall looked shocked at the malice in his tone. Professor Dumbledore, however, did not look phased in the least, as if he knew it was coming.

"Now Harry, can we bring up the problems between us later?" He motioned for Harry to sit down. "I think you should tell your friends about the prophecy, because they deserve to hear it."

"You mean that orb thing?" Hermione asked. "Didn't it get smashed in the Department of Mysteries?"

Dumbledore shook his head, smiling. They all turned to Harry.

He sat down with a thud on the chair, thinking it over. What if his friends would treat him differently after he told them? Like he had a disease? About to open his mouth and object to telling them, Dumbledore interrupted. "Harry, do you really think your friends would shun you because of what they hear?" Harry silently wished curses on all those who could use Occlumency. Seeing their pleading looks, he realized he had to tell them, and couldn't get out of it. Maybe Dumbledore was right. Harry cleared his throat and began, telling them all about the prophecy that was made about him and Voldemort.

"So when it comes down to it, either I have to kill Voldemort, or he has to kill me, because neither can live while the other survives," he said with a sigh, looking down. A hand touched his arm. It was Hermione's.

"Don't worry Harry, we're with you on this one," Ron nodded.

Joy welled up inside him. His friends didn't shun him, or refuse to deal with his problem. They accepted it, and gave him their support. Before he could voice his gratitude, Dumbledore spoke up.

"Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, if you'd kindly leave us, there is something I must discuss with Professor McGonagall and Harry here."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, then got up and began to leave, before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Mr. Weasley, I really would like to not have to put up an Imperturbable Charm to make sure you don't use those Extendable Ears you have on you." Ron's mouth opened in shock, and then turned bright red and hurried out of the room, with Hermione following him.

"Well, what else did you want to talk about Professor?" Harry was unimpressed with Professor Dumbledore's obvious use of Occlumency.

"Harry, I wanted to tell you that, while you live here, I wish for you to not attend the Order's meetings." He folded his hands together, elbows on the table, waiting for the inevitable outburst.

"Why?" He wanted to know why he still couldn't attend these meetings, even though he'd proven himself again and again able to deal with such things.

"Because you have enough to deal with already without adding to it."

Harry stopped what he was about to say and clamped his mouth shut. So it wasn't anything to do with him being too young, or inexperienced? "But I want to go still, even if I have problems of my own, because they could help me learn more about Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched at the name, but Dumbledore just smiled.

"Don't worry Harry, I promise to teach you myself about the inner workings of Lord Voldemort this year."

Every trace of anger faded, and a surge of excitement rushed to replace it. Dumbledore was going to teach him about Voldemort? "Thank you, Professor." He meant it.

"Now Harry, would you mind leaving me so that I could talk with Professor McGonagall alone?" Dumbledore smiled. I imagine your friends are anxious to catch up with you." Harry nodded, and went upstairs.

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A/N: This was such a horrible chapter for me to write for some reason. It's really hard keeping them as in character as I can, inserting random things from the books that I want to keep in there, such as Harry getting over his anger at Dumbledore, and trying to put in my own things. Very difficult. So stroke my ego with some praise please! 


	7. The Little Detours

Author's Note: Over 6,000 hits, and only 1/100 of them decided to leave a review? For shame. I'm glad to know that my story is entertaining that many people, but it's really disheartening to find that they won't leave a simple review for all the time I put into this. More reviews will get faster updates, chaps. Also, I'm still struggling with the OOCness of characters. I apologize in advance for that.

Also, I noticed not many people saw the bit of humor I put into the last chapter. I was poking fun at how Harry forgives Dumbledore after a few weeks into the summer of HBP, almost like a little kid. After destroying half his office, he's all happy like a child that Albus is picking him up from the Dursley's. I guess I'm the only one who saw that as funny. Oh well.

Disclaimer: Of course, I own none of this, just the little plotbunny that whispers in my ear at night.

Dedication: This is dedicated to my friend Katie J, who, while not a member here, likes my story. So this one's for you.

Chapter 7

Albus turned to Minerva as they heard Harry jog up the stairs. "Minerva, I wanted to let you know that Voldemort has been seen close to here." Minerva's hands had been idle in her lap, but when he said this she grabbed the edges of the table.

"What?"

"He's been seen at a small village not far from Wrea Green, but we're not sure what his plans are. Now, while I have a chance, I'm going to strengthen the charm that makes up the barrier around your manor." He took a sip of the tea Rougey had placed in front of him.

"But what about the Fidelius charm? With that, the barrier should be fine as it is, right?" She was nervous, and he knew it.

"We think he may have somehow learned to get past the Fidelius charm simply by using legilimens, so the strengthened barrier won't let anything human in or out, unless they've seen that paper written by your hand." She exhaled, relieved. While it was frightening that _he_ may have found a way past the Fidelius charm, the barrier that Albus created would certainly keep even _him_ out. Looking up, she saw that Albus was staring at her, and she knew that wasn't all he wanted say.

"Well, what else was there to tell me?"

Albus leaned forward and placed his hand on hers. "I know you're growing very attached to him, Minerva, but I don't want you to tell him about Voldemort being sighted near here, at least not yet." Minerva looked down, blushing slightly. That man always knew what was going on. Always.

"And what if I think he has the right to know?" It angered her at how Albus treated him sometimes. Like he was still the baby she had watched him place on that doorstep.

He squeezed her hand gently. "You know better than anyone else I have good reasons for not wanting him to know yet, so please trust me on this."

She sighed, knowing when she was defeated. "Alright Albus, I won't tell him anything yet, but I still think it's wrong to keep him in the dark about everything."

"He won't be kept in the dark for long, he'll be ready for this sooner than you think," Albus said with a smile. With that, he leaned forward and quickly kissed her on the cheek. It took a second or two for her to react, but she reacted exactly how he knew she would.

"What was that for!" She hissed, blushing a deep red.

"It was for exactly what you thought it was for," he said mysteriously, winking at her behind his glasses.

"Albus! I hardly think it's appropriate to act like a giddy teenager at a time like this." She raised her hand to touch the cheek he had kissed so spontaneously. It would take a lot for her to admit that she liked it. But he probably knew already, anyways.

"But what if today was my last day on earth? Would you have me keep all this love to myself?" He sounded serious, but she saw the laughter in his eyes.

"Ever the joker, even when such a threat is upon us," she sighed. Standing up, she led him out the back door and past the garden to the barrier. What could he do to strengthen it like that? Sure, it might be possible to get past the Fidelius charm by using Legilimens, Albus had shared with her his theories, but you had to have seen that exact piece of paper to get past the barrier. It had only been added as an extra precaution, but maybe now it became a necessity.

"While the barrier was only initially added to back up the Fidelius charm, it's possible to break it with an older form of sorcery. I hope to strengthen it so that it **won't** break." Albus informed her as they walked.

"Albus, I hardly think it will be needed."

Reaching the woods, Albus turned to her. "When it comes to Voldemort, Minerva, everything at our disposal is needed," he said quite seriously. Turning towards the direction of the barrier, he pulled a knife from the sleeve of his robes. It had a handle that looked like some type of dark wood, with a ruby set into the bottom. In a quick motion, he cut a strange looking rune into the palm of his hand, and enclosed it in a large triangle spawning the entirety of his hand. Before letting too much blood drip, he pressed his hand against the barrier.

Before Minerva could open her mouth, the barrier turned blood red, and his arm passed into it. Rushing over to him, she saw that he was clenching his teeth and sweating. He was in pain.

"Albus, it isn't worth it!" She cried, tugging at his arm. Would he lose his life for this cause?

The air began to hum, and the barrier itself turned a stunning gold color. Unknown to Minerva, however, there were three pairs of eyes watching the spell from a second floor window.

-------------------

"Harry, what exactly is that thing Dumbledore's touching?" Hermione asked, bedazzled by the show of sorcery she'd never seen before.

"It's a barrier Dumbledore put in to reinforce the Manor." Harry was perplexed by the whole thing. What on earth could he be doing? The professor had had his arm inside the barrier for a few good minutes already. Ron crouched next to him, eyes wide with amazement.

"Harry, d'you think he's spelling it for extra protection to it because you're here?" Ron finally asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised, you're top priority Harry, now that He's been out in the open," Hermione said darkly. They had all read that Voldemort's supporters were running amuck, and that bad things were happening frequently, such what happened to Madam Bones. All three of them shivered simultaneously.

Suddenly, the barrier turned pink, then clear again as Dumbledore took out his arm. They saw the rune he had carved into his flesh was already healed. As McGonagall said something to him, Dumbledore looked up at the window they were watching from and smiled. All three of them ducked down, ashamed they had been watching.

-------------------

Later that night, Minerva couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because _He_ was probably prowling close by, or maybe it was because she didn't like keeping secrets from Harry, like she had to now. Hell, she could just be off her rocker, for all she knew.

A few minutes into her steadily-growing-colder cocoa, she heard footsteps down the stairs. Perhaps Hermione, with a question about the barrier? She knew they all saw it, and frankly, she wasn't sure she understood exactly what he did either.

"Professor?" Looking up, she saw Harry standing there, in his oversize pajamas, a little surprised to see her there.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I couldn't sleep, do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all, I don't mind the company." She motioned for him to take a seat. Do you want some cocoa? It's very good."

He shook his head and sat down. For a minute or two he was silent, staring at his hands in a contemplative way. Then he perked his head up and asked, "Did you know, when you were leaving school, exactly what you wanted to do with your life?"

She smiled, remembering when she had asked her parents this exact same question. And she gave him the answer they gave her. "No one knows 100 what they want to do in their life, but that's the fun of it. Sure, we have an idea for going in the general direction, but there are lots of small detours along the way that make life so interesting and worth living." Looking at him, he had the same look of understanding she had had, so long ago. Then he gave her a big smile.

"I just wanted to say, thank you for bringing me to your home, helping me with little things like homework, and just...being here for me." Thanks." Getting up from the table, he said goodnight and headed back upstairs, to what she guessed would be a sound sleep.

Unlike her. How could she keep anything from this boy? It didn't seem right to keep anything from him, even if Albus did have his reasons. He'd already been through too many lies and falsehoods, so why couldn't she, along with Albus and the rest, be honest with him for once?

Then she came to realize that Albus had warned her not to fall in love with this skinny boy, and that it was far too late for that. And with that realization came guilt, and hatred at herself for keeping secrets. Always secrets.

Getting up softly, she put the mug of untouched cocoa in the sink and headed upstairs. She dressed in her favorite tartan pajamas, and snuggled into her favorite spot on the large bed. But none of it stopped her from crying to herself for a good long while, before falling into a fitful sleep.

A/N: I swear you crazy people are going to kill me. I'm always so late with my updates! It's just, it takes a long time for me to write them, because a lot of thought goes into where I want this to go. Someone also pointed out to me that my style seems different now than when I first started this. Well, you're probably right. But I'm still a high school brat, what do you expect?

I know some of the details of this story were probably a bit confusing, and I'm sorry. Hopefully it'll be sorted out by the next chapter, if not, message me and I'll try to help you understand my crazy brain.

Also, I know it's hard to believe, but...I have no beta for this story. That's why I get so nervous when I update! I don't know what kind of feedback I'll get! So, if anyone's interested in that, please message me.


	8. OWL Results

**Chapter 8**

A/N: Holy crap! We're at ch 8 already! How did this happen? This is honestly the longest story I've ever written, if that says anything (hah) With over 9,000 hits!!! But as I'm happy to say, this will be the final chapter. Thanks everyone for the fun. Note: the paragraphs that are in italics are directly from the HBP.

Disclaimer: I own none of this, it all belongs to J.K.R.

* * *

That morning, Harry was awakened to squeals for the second time in two days.

"Harry, our O.W.L.s are here!" Hermione cried, practically jumping up and down and holding a letter away from her. "What do I do? I'm not ready for it yet!"

"Why don't you open it then?" Harry asked sleepily. His brain was suddenly starting to register that his test results were here. He sat up in bed and looked around. There was a large tawny owl perched on his bedpost, with a square envelope attached to its leg. It seemed ready to wait until the end of time, as long as it delivered those results to Harry. The thing held up its right leg expectantly, glaring at him with large yellow eyes.

Glancing over, Harry saw Ron next to Hermione, staring at the envelope as if it was another Howler. Hermione, however, was too busy trembling to even attempt to open it. "Oh come on, the both of you, let's open them together." He detached his letter and hurriedly opened it, hearing the two of them do the same.

_Harry read the parchment through several times, his breathing becoming easier with each reading. It was all right: He had always known that he would fail Divination, and that he'd had no chance of passing History of Magic, given that he had collapsed halfway through the examination, but he had passed everything else! He ran his finger down the grades...he had passed well in Transfiguration and Herbology, he had even exceeded expectations at Potions! And best of all, he had achieved "Outstanding" at Defense Against the Dark Arts!_

_He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted. _

_"Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about them?" he said happily to Harry. "Here-swap-" _

_Harry glanced down at Ron's grades: There were no "Outstandings" there..._

_"Knew you'd be top at Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Ron, punching Harry on the shoulder. "We've done all right, haven't we?"_

_Professor McGonagall came in, walking over to them. Seeing Ron's parchment, she shook his hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Weasley, you bring pride to Gryffindor." She didn't notice, but Ron pinked at such a high compliment from their Head of House._

_"Hermione, how'd you do?" Harry asked, for Hermione still hadn't turned around._

_"I-not bad," said Hermione in a small voice._

_"Oh, come off it," said Ron, striding over to her and whipping the results out of her hand. "Yep-ten 'Outstandings' and one 'Exceeds Expectations' at Defense Against the Dark Arts." He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"_

_Hermione shook her head, but Harry laughed loudly._

"Hermione," said Professor McGonagall, gripping the young girl's shoulder, forcing her to turn around. "You have nothing to be disappointed about, because you're still the brightest witch I've ever had the pleasure to know," she said firmly. Hermione turned even darker than Ron had, and her lip trembled slightly. "Now, I asked Rougey to prepare a magnificent breakfast for the three of you, and while I speak with Harry, you should go down and begin enjoying it." As the two of them, embarrassed yet extremely pleased, started to leave the room, she spoke. "However, I am going to the Ministry to take care of a few small things, and while I'm gone, I don't want any of you to leave the Manor, or go and explore the grounds, am I clear?"

The two of them nodded their heads dumbly. She shooed them, and they hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

"Now, Harry, I can see something is bothering you, would you let me have a look at your results?" He mutely handed them over to her, and watched her face carefully as she scanned over his paper. "I don't see anything amiss here, other than the two failed grades in classes I know you don't care about," she said, handing the paper back to him.

"I can't be an Auror now," he said softly, refusing to take back the paper. "I didn't get an 'Outstanding' in Potions, and if I can't take N.E.W.T. Potions, I won't be able to become an Auror." He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, that, even though he knew it would happen, it was the end of the destiny he wanted the most, to be able to join the ranks of the highly trained wizards who sought out dark wizards like Voldemort.

"So you're giving up?" She asked quietly. "The Harry I know wouldn't let this hinder him from trying." She walked over to his bedstand and gently placed the paper on it. "Can't you wait until I talk to Severus to start being all melodramatic?"

His head snapped up. "You're going to talk to Snape?"

"That's _Professor_ Snape, Harry, and yes, I'm going to talk to him and ask if he can make an exception." Her encouraging smile stopped as she saw it fall on a still distressed face.

"He won't allow it, there's no possible way he would make an exception for any student, most of all me," said Harry glumly. McGonagall reached out and cupped his chin in her hand, tilting his face so he had to look at her.

"Don't you think that when it comes down to it, if I argue enough, it will be brought up in front of Professor Dumbledore?" His eyes widened in surprise. "He's the one who will have the last say in it, I assure you, so why don't you go downstairs and enjoy a fantastic breakfast while I take care of some Order business?" Her smile seemed to catch on this time, as he suddenly smiled back at her.

"Harry, I just wanted you to know," she said, watching him walking to the door to leave. "I am so proud that you did so well on your exams, and it will right itself in the end, if you want it badly enough." He tried to hide it, but she knew from his voice cracking that he was touched.

"Thank you, Professor." And with that, he headed downstairs to catch up with his friends and to satisfy his large teenage stomach. With a grin, she watched him leave, waiting until she heard him address Granger and Weasley before she apparated to the Ministry.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

"So after you fill out these forms, you should be ready to go, Ms. McGonagall." The bored secretary said, handing her what seemed like a small tree in paperwork. She sat on one of the cheap plastic chairs in the hallway and began to patiently fill them out, when suddenly a voice cried out her name.

"I haven't seen you in ages, Minerva!" A corpulent man cried, coming forward.

"Edmund Werple, is that you?" She asked, standing up to meet him. "It's been years."

He started to laugh, and she couldn't help but notice his paunch jiggled like a great big bowl of jelly. It seemed his love for food had never left him, unlike his sandy hair. "So, how's teaching transfiguration been for you?"

"Just fine," she said smiling. "The students never change, even if we do." She motioned to the hallway. "So just what is it you do now?" You were a clerk for the Experimental Charms department last time I saw you!"

"I'm in charge of the Legal Functions department now," he said, waving to the now busy secretary. "It's different, but much safer than some other professions now, because what Death Eater in their right mind would want to deal with someone who deals in custody or property affairs?" He had a point, she thought. "So, what brings you here?" he asked, peeking at her custody papers. Eyes widening, he motioned for her to follow him, where he led her into his office.

"You want to adopt Harry Potter?!" He nearly shouted, one hand on his heart. "I've never heard of someone wanting to do such a stupid thing, least of all you, Minerva!"

"I hardly think loving someone is stupid, Edmund," she said rather coldly. "And isn't it a little...unsafe to say things so loud in times like these?"

"My office is spelled against anything leaving it, Minerva," he pointed out. "Why on earth would you want to adopt the boy?" He's like a walking disaster train!"

Minerva had had enough of this. She shouldn't have to explain herself to anyone, let alone an old friend. "I think why I would want to adopt him is my own business, Edmund, so if you'll let me fill out my papers, I can hand them back in in a few minutes."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You were wrong about what you said before, you have changed, a lot." Minerva didn't reply, but instead plucked a quill up from his rather messy desk, and started to fill out the forms again.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

About to leave the Ministry and return home, the same bored looking secretary rushed over to her. "Ms. McGonagall?" She asked.

"Yes, what is it?" She wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"There's an owl here for you, but no one knows where it came from." Minerva scowled, already knowing who it would be.

"I'll get it," she said sourly, looking over to where the woman pointed, where a large barn owl sat, watching their conversation with what looked like amusement.

All it said was: _come to my office before you return to the manor – Albus_

Her mood was already dour, and she felt that whatever came next would worsen her mood. With a sigh, she walked over to one of the many Ministry fireplaces, and, with a nod to the still staring secretary, she grabbed a handful of floo powder, yelled "Dumbledore's office!" and stepped into the bright fire, to be met by a too happy for her liking Albus.

"Before you say anything," she warned, holding up one finger as he started to say something. "I don't care what you think, I know you were right about me getting attached to him, but I don't care." She fumed, stamping her foot on the hardwood floor for effect.

Albus was silent for a moment, then spoke. "That wasn't the original reason I asked you to come, but yes, we'll get to that later," he told a now stunned Minerva. "I was going to inform you that I've sent out messages of our first Order meeting tonight at your manor, and thought I should tell you in person," he said winking. Minerva rolled her eyes. "But now that you brought it up, would you like to talk about your decision to adopt Harry?" He walked over to his couch, patting the seat next to him.

"I know you warned me, but the damage was done long beforehand," she said, going over to sit next to him. "Oh Albus, I know it's a dangerous thing to do, but he needs someone who loves him and shows it, especially now." Her tears welled up against her wishes, and Albus patted her back, crooning.

"I know dear, you can't help but love someone, no matter how difficult they can be," he said softly. Minerva's head snapped up.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, you beautiful stubborn woman," he said, pulling her closer and kissing her gently but with force behind it. After a moment of hesitation, she kissed him back, hugging him close. This was what she was missing: love. And she did love this man, because for all the times he infuriated her, he made her laugh and feel special. After they pulled away, her mind raced. What did this mean? Did Albus really mean what he said? And as if he read her thoughts, he answered.

"My dear Minerva, I know you're probably questioning everything that just happened, but I want you to know that I do love you, and if I have to compete with Harry for your affections, so be it," he said, a mysterious twinkle in his eye. "And I think that both you and Harry should have someone around who loved you, it would be good for the both of you, if the two of you are careful about it."

"Wait, you knew?" He smiled knowingly.

"Of course I knew it would be inevitable, I just wanted you to be sure of what you were getting yourself into." She laughed bitterly at this.

"I'm already far too deep into this to get back out anyway, so why not do something that will make us both happy?"

Albus smiled sadly at her. "We're all in far too deep Minerva, so we should enjoy our lives to the fullest while we can." He stood up, pulling her along with him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go meet with the Minister about something I can't quite recall at the moment," he said, grinning. As she stood up, however, he pulled her into another long kiss. "I still can't remember." His grin got even wider, and she couldn't help but smile back. He was so silly when he felt like it, and that was part of why she loved him so much.

With a much briefer parting kiss, she said goodbye and walked over to the fireplace, hoping to find the manor intact with its current residents unharmed.

* * *

A/N: HA!! I really scared you all, didn't I? No, this story hopefully has a few more chapters to go yet! I won't be done with this thing for awhile, so don't worry. I hope I didn't lose a few readers by doing that, ha ha. And unfortunately, I made yet another cliffhanger. Sorry! And I'm sorry to say, during the month of november, I'll be participating in NaNoWriMo. If you don't know what this is, google it. It means I'll be occupied from Nov. 1 to Nov. 30 writing a novel, with almost no time to spare working on this or my X-Men fic. Now, go on and leave me a review! Clicking that button and reviewing will make my day. 


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